


Robe, Wreath of Shadows

by troof



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, basically a sleepover party, but a poem, come on melkor, i wrote this a really long time ago okay, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 15:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troof/pseuds/troof
Summary: An entreaty in the form of a poem. Mairon wants something more from Melkor--he hopes it doesn't make him less evil.





	Robe, Wreath of Shadows

I want to be the darkest dream  
that ever graced your bed,  
The second king of evil things  
that muttered when you bled.

A fairer nightly terror am I,  
asking to be friends,  
To watch the dawn through tented sheets  
when ruthless dark ascends.

Does not your tower suffer  
screaming black against the gloam,  
And wonder why itself  
is solely house but not a home?

All warm, your broken intimations  
bleed me of my craft  
But slowly, slick, and thick it goes,  
calmed by your songful laugh.

This robe is on its own and drapes  
unguarded skin beneath,  
So fallen please you shelter me  
with chill and force and teeth.

I have my ribs and have a spine,  
laid back against the pillow,  
And shy I promise not to be  
when bent back like a willow.

My tasting is of doom  
before he preys upon the world,  
And spirit-sapping flags above  
hang fatefully unfurled.

My wants do not take precedence,  
you snap at me with rage,  
As if we haven't held hands  
this _entire injured age_.

My lord, I swear that I will take  
whatever you bequeath,  
And clothe myself again  
in evil shadows' golden wreath.


End file.
